Your Friendly Neighborhood Music Critic

Best Verse of April 2017: Kendrick Lamar – “FEEL.”

I could talk about Kendrick Lamar’s record DAMN. for days, and if you want the full review you can read it here, as well as an argument to stop comparing him to Drake, but April felt fairly in Kendrick’s favor when it came to picking a best verse of the month. April saw releases from Young Dolph, Talib Kweli, 3d Na’Tee, Young M.A, Gorillaz, Wale, and even Kanye West on a Mary J. Blige track, but April 2017 was definitely owned by Kendrick Lamar. The one argument I can agree on is how great Joey Bada$$’ All Amerikkkan Bada$$was, because it truly was an amazing album, but not giving Verse of the Month to Kendrick Lamar for his performances on DAMN. just seems sacrilegious.

On “FEEL.,” my personal favorite on DAMN. andone that I hinted would probably get this spot in my review of the record, his rhyme scheme is on a whole other level than most rappers today. It’s verbal poetry, and it holds all that DAMN. strives for in one emotional arc that follows a “build-up -> climax -> resolution” flow of powerful repetition reminiscent of a great speech.

[Kendrick Lamar – “FEEL.” 2nd Verse]I feel niggas been out of pocketI feel niggas tappin’ they pocketsI feel like debatin’ on who the greatest can stop itI am legend, I feel like all of y’all is peasantsI feel like all of y’all is desperateI feel like all it take is a second to feel likeMike Jordan whenever holdin’ a real micI ain’t feelin’ your presenceFeel like I’ma learn you a lessonFeel like only me and the music, thoughI feel like your feelin’ ain’t mutualI feel like the enemy you should knowFeel like the feelin’ of no hopeThe feelin’ of bad dopeA quarter ounce manipulated from soapThe feelin’, the feelin’ of false freedomI’ll force-feed ’em the poison that fill ’em up in the prisonI feel like it’s just meLook, I feel like I can’t breatheLook, I feel like I can’t sleepLook, I feel heartless, often off thisFeelin’ of fallin’, of fallin’ apart withDarkest hours, lost itFillin’ the void of bein’ employed with ballin’Streets is talkin’, fill in the blanks with coffinsFill up the banks with dollarsFill up the graves with fathersFill up the babies with bullshitInternet blogs and pulpit, fill ’em with gossipI feel like this gotta be the feelin’ what ‘Pac wasThe feelin’ of an apocalypse happenin’But nothin’ is awkward, the feelin’ won’t prosperThe feelin’ is toxic, I feel like I’m boxin’ demonsMonsters, false prophets schemin’Sponsors, industry promisesNiggas, bitches, honkies, crackers, ComptonChurch, religion, token blacks, and bondageLawsuit visits, subpoena served in concertFuck your feelings, I mean this for impostersI can feel it, the phoenix sure to watch usI can feel it, the dream is more than processI can put a regime that forms a Loch NessI can feel it, the scream that haunts our logicI feel like say somethin’, I feel like take somethin’I feel like skatin’ off, I feel like waitin’ for ’emMaybe it’s too late for ’emI feel like the whole world want me to pray for ’emBut who the fuck prayin’ for me?